Controlled By Mommy’s Feet

A naughty short story about a young man who just can’t stay away from his Mommy’s feet…

I hear the door close downstairs, my heart races once I realize I’m completely alone. Mom has just left for work, and she won’t be back for another 9 hours. It’s the weekend, so I’m king of the castle until then. Most college kids my age would have a party, or maybe a girl over. But not me, there is only one thing on my mind.

I creep down the hall quietly, still skeptical of my luck. I reach out my hand for the door at the end of the hall and push the it open to reveal my mother’s bedroom. For a few minutes, I stand in the middle of the room, scanning it with my eyes. The idea of being caught starts to mix with the perversion of the crime I’m about to commit and fuels the hardest fear boner I’ve ever had. My mind starts racing, but I take a deep breath and proceed toward the closet.

I carefully open the closet door and reach my hand in to pull the light switch. Light fills the room and I am met with shelves upon shelves of shoes. Designer, sneakers, sandals, stilettos, boots…every style you can imagine. I feel sweat dripping down my forehead and my heart starts to pound. I approach the pair that has been haunting my fantasies for weeks since she brought it home, the leather Chelsea ankle boots.

Running my fingers across the leather, I put the opening of the boot up to my nose. Teasing myself just a bit at first before eventually burying my entire snout in it. The sour aroma fills my nostrils, and I feel my erection start to ache. Losing myself in the moment, I slide my hand down to stroke my hard on in my pants. I take another deep whiff of my Mom’s shoes, savoring the scent of her stinky feet.

I am nearing orgasm when I hear the front door opening downstairs. “Fuck!” I think to myself, putting Mom’s boot back on the shelf and buckling my pants up. I turn off the light and close the closet door, hiding myself inside. My heart is pounding, my hard on still raging in my jeans, holding my breath as I hear Mom enter the room. Footsteps near the bed, and then silence. I realize she is sitting on the bed! I am confused by this, because she is supposed to be at work. How will I ever explain why I am hiding in the closet?

“I know you’re in there,” I hear Mom say. All the blood rushes to my head, I feel like I might pass out. How could she possibly know I’m in here? “Come out of there right now, young man.” I open the closet door, I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I am too ashamed to look at her, I can still feel my boner going strong and I try to hide it. I failed.

“Tsk tsk. Hiding in the closet, and with a boner none the less! I think I know what you were doing in there.” I look up at her sheepishly, giving up on trying to hide my hard on. I notice she has slipped off her mules, her bare feet are laid out on the bed with freshly painted red toes. I can smell her from where I stand, I can hardly contain myself. “You are staring at my feet! I knew it, I’ve been watching you for the past few months. You can’t keep your eyes off them. A mother knows, I guess I raised a filthy pervert!” I feel deep shame and scramble to leave her presence as fast as I can.

“Get back here, on your knees.” I look up to see her pointing at the floor in front of where her feet are resting. How could she force me to endure this embarrassment? She must know how utterly crushed and defeated I am by her discovery. I see a smile cross her face slowly, and I feel my stomach sink. I do as Mom says kneeling down next to her feet. She runs her hand through my hair, and suddenly I feel her fingers curl around my roots tightly. Pulling me tightly by my hair, she begins to smother me with the bottom of her gorgeous feet. I lose control as I smell her scent, inhaling deeply. “Do you like the smell of Mommy’s feet?” she asks with a giggle. “Yes, very much,” I say with a moan, as she puts her heel in my open mouth. I allow myself to taste the soft skin of her pedicured soles, and I notice my hand on my erection.

She notices it too I realize as she puts her other foot on my hard on, teasing me with her wiggling toes through my jeans. I am helpless to stop her, even if I wanted to. Leaning into the pleasure that is Mommy’s feet, I start to drift off. “I intend to keep you at my feet, obeying my every move. I always knew you were a Mommy’s boy – now I will use this against you.” She giggles and reaches into the side table next to her bed. She pulls out a small box and puts it on the bed next to her.

“Strip naked,” she commands, and I do without hesitation. I can’t believe this is happening, Mommy is controlling me with her feet! I always feared this would happen if she found out, and rightfully so. I strip naked, kneeling in front of her, waiting her command. She reaches into the box and pulls out a small steel looking cage. She notices the confused look on my face and answers it with, “Oh, this is a chastity cage! I don’t want any more incidents with you touching yourself, so you’ll be required to wear it while you live under my roof.”

I open my mouth to protest but Mommy shoves her toes in my mouth, wiggling them around. I instantly lose my mind as I become consumed by Mommy’s beautiful feet. I barely notice as she slips the ring around my balls and locks the cage to my shaft. I feel myself pressing against the cage, but my erection slowly subsides. The weight is annoying, the steel is cold. I wonder how long she’ll keep me locked like this, how long she’ll control me with her feet. Mommy attaches the key to a chain and puts it around her neck and leans in to whisper in my ear, “Now, about those dishes…”